


Christmas with the Breighs

by bitchytimemachine



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas Fluff, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:14:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchytimemachine/pseuds/bitchytimemachine
Summary: When Vegeta’s parents won’t stop nagging about bringing home a woman, he decides to bring home his new “girlfriend” for the holidays. Sister fic to Christmas with the Briefs by Vegebul_Soup. Fake Dating AU.
Relationships: Bulma Briefs/Vegeta
Comments: 75
Kudos: 193





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in tandem with [Vegebul_Soup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vegebul_soup/pseuds/vegebul_soup) after we both saw a tweet about fake dating and came up with different ideas about how to present the prompt! This is a sister fic to [Christmas with the Briefs.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653578/chapters/51635554) Go check it out! 
> 
> Google Translate helped me name Saiyan holidays, and I took inspiration from Pagan winter holidays for the mythos surrounding this story.

_tap...tap..tap_ Vegeta sat at his dorm room desk pondering the ethics of automation in the welfare system. His finger tapped the table, mind everywhere except this stupid paper. It needed to be completed and submitted by midnight. He just wasn’t into it, ethics, no matter how much bullshit he threw at the paper, seemed to be pointless and a waste of his time. He would much rather be working on his next byline. 

His phone began to buzz. Tarble’s large grinning face popped up on his caller ID. As much as his parents called, and Vegeta ignored, whenever his little brother dialed him, he could not force himself to ignore the call. He flipped his phone open and answered with a gruff, “yes?”

Vegeta fiercely loved his little brother and remembered how Tarble’s face would light up when they would chase after each other in the front yard. He taught the boy how to throw a football, throw the best insults, and throw a punch. His father tended to be too caught up in his own things, work, friends and Vegeta’s mother to spend time with his boys. So Vegeta took up that mantle, being the perfect older brother. 

“Hey big bro! What ‘chu up to?” Tarble’s voice chirped over the line. 

“Writing a paper. I have a deadline.”

“Well, Ma asked me to call.”

“Oh come on Tarble, you know better than this, they are manipulating you!”

“I know, but I wanted to call too, I miss you Vegeta!!”

Vegeta did know that his transition to university had been hard on his brother. Tarble cried when Vegeta boarded the plane to leave for college. Tarble called every day the week after Vegeta left for the big city, and Vegeta could not deny his brother contact, so Vegeta made it a point to text each day and take his calls whenever the boy wanted.

“Whats Mom want?”

“She wants to make sure you are coming home for the holidays! She knows you have that job at the paper, but she’s hoping you can make it to Oíche ghealach and Máthair réalta”

“Tch, I don’t know Tarble,” Vegeta was hesitant, and wasn’t keen on visiting his mother, who for all intents and purposes had sent him to college to _meet a nice girl_ and have that conversation again, but he also did not want to disappoint Tarble. It might be nice to see him, and maybe Vegeta could hide away in his room most of the time.

“Aw come on man! I’d really like to see you!”

Well shit, that kind of made Vegeta’s mind up for him, “Ok, I’ll come home.”

\---------------------

Vegeta’s eyes were heavy. He had stayed up super late to finish that stupid paper. For a journalism major, he really hated writing… maybe he should change majors? Vegeta wasn’t sure what he really wanted to do with life, except that he hated these insipid core classes he was required to take. He had spent the first hour of the day being taught how to open Microsoft Excel - like a child, and now he was in a physics class listening to the teacher’s pet argue with the professor. 

All he wanted to do was be excused from class and hit the gym before going to bed early. Was it so much to ask that no one raise their hand with follow up questions right before class was supposed to end? 

Vegeta surmised that he could just get up and leave, but he had placed himself in the back of the cramped classroom, and he figured that the commotion would draw the professor's attention. Dr. Gero was known to be vindictive and Vegeta would rather not take his science core class over for a professor retaliating on his impatience. 

If only this blue haired banshee would shut her mouth so Dr. Gero would let them leave. Each time it seemed like he had answered a question, that know-it-all would fire back. She was like the 50 year old in his computer class who kept asking the most inane questions about how to work the computer. Vegeta guessed it was good that the old lady was getting her education and trying to better herself, but non-traditional students seemed to ask the most bizarre questions. 

Maybe the blue haired woman was actually older and Vegeta had just not noticed? He didn’t typically pay attention unless it was related to his major. He doodled a bit in his notebook until he heard an exasperated sigh from Dr. Gero.

“Miss Briefs, if you would like to continue this spirited argument, you can come see me during office hours, for now, I think we are done in class for today, see you Thursday for final review.”

Vegeta exited as quickly as he could, but not before giving _Miss Briefs_ a snarl and glare as he left. 

\---------------------

 _tap..tap..tap_ Vegeta stared at the computer once more. This time he was hesitating with clicking the ‘book now’ button in front of him. He really didn’t want to be stuck in his small town for a whole week, he really, really didn’t want to go to Saoire, and he really, really, really didn’t want to deal with his family. 

His phone began to buzz, and without further thought, or possibly because he was still suffering end of term exhaustion, he answered it without looking at the caller ID. 

“What a surprise boy, you answered your phone.”

 _Shit_ , “Hi Dad,” Vegeta drew out. 

“Hi Dad? I have called multiple times this semester, with no answer, and the best you can say is _Hi Dad_?”

“It’s a simple greeting Dad.”

“Use my money for that useless degree you are getting at that shit school and just greet me with _Hi Dad_. In my day, we had respect for our elders. I knew I should have spanked you as a child, but your mother was just SOFT. She would never let me discipline you.”

“I got a full ride here dad, and you have never even given me money. I have ALWAYS worked for my money.”

“Regardless, it is shameful you not answering our calls." There was a pregnant pause before his father's gruff voice continued, "your mother won’t quit bitching at me, fucking come home for Saoire Vegeta.”

“I’m booking my flight now Dad.”

“Good, I hope you are using your time at that school well. I need a worthy heir.”

“Not this again Dad, I am focusing on my studies.”

“A _WORTHY_ heir my son. Surely you have a woman you have been bedding.”

Vegeta raked his hands down his face. He really didn't want to deal with this again, “You know this is the reason I don’t take your calls or moms. I am too young to be thinking about making babies.”

“I was well versed in baby making at your age my boy! Do you not know how it works?”

“Jesus Christ Dad, I know how it works - what are we even talking about anymore?!”

“I knew you were avoiding our calls, and your mother insisted that you were just busy. So, bring your woman home when you come.”

“There is no woman dad. I am focusing on school.”

“Bullshit son, I was your age once. I know you are sowing your wild oats. So are you seeing anyone?”

Vegeta just wanted this conversation to be over, and he was ready to tell his father literally anything to get this conversation to end. “Ummmm… yes?”

“Great! Bring her home for the holidays so your mother and I can meet and approve of her.”

“Fine dad, I’ll see what I can do.” Vegeta began to formulate a plan, and booked two plane tickets. 

\---------------------

It was simple, Vegeta’s dad wanted him to bring home a woman who would provide a worthy heir, whatever the hell that meant, so Vegeta would find a woman so loathsome that his dad would refuse to let him continue to see her. Simple. Except that it wasn’t so simple, at least it was harder than Vegeta thought it would be. 

He had spent the past few days asking women to come home with him for the break. He first approached a large woman and told her that he thought that she was so disgusting that his parents would surely hate her. He wasn’t sure why, but the woman ran off crying before he could invite her to his house for the holiday. He even went to the nontraditional student in his computer class and asked her to come home with him for the break. She declined because she needed to be home for her grandchildren. 

Vegeta was beginning to become so desperate that he was considering asking his roommate Kakarot to come home with him. Surely his parents would stop asking him about heirs and nice women if Vegeta brought home a man. Vegeta wasn’t about to chance it though, Kakarot was full blooded Saiyan, a breed that was rare at this point in time, and he worried that his dad may attempt to figure out how to get full blooded babies out of the two men. 

So here he sat ready for his physics final. He had spent more time ruminating over his basic problem than he cared to admit. Everything he thought about brought him back to his main problem, there were two plane tickets and only one passenger. He was pulled out of his thoughts buy a commotion in the hallway, where he could hear one side of a conversation. 

"Yeah, well I guess we are done here then…. No, I'm done talking about it, we have done nothing but talk about it for weeks…. I'm ready for it to be over, why won't you just let it be over?"

A few moments passed and the blue-haired know-it-all stormed into the room, her eyes rimmed red. She must have been the person having the one-sided conversation because she slammed her phone down on the desktop and jerked a pencil out of her bag.

“All right class,” Dr. Gero began, seeming unfazed by the events that had just occurred, “I'm going to pass out the exam now. When you're done with it you can bring it to my desk and leave. I assure you I have not enjoyed teaching this section, but I hope you've all given me acceptable scores on my evaluation.”

Vegeta quickly finished his exam, feeling confident, he looked over his answers and gathered his things before turning it in and walking out. His eyes paused on the know-it-all for a moment. Her head was cradled in her hands while she drew circles on her exam sheet. Vegeta scoffed and left.

He walked down the stairs and as soon as he reached the exit, Vegeta knew he needed to ask the know-it-all to Saoire. He walked back towards the classroom, found a chair in the hallway, set down and wait for her.

Hours went by, the exam time was over and she slumped out of the room. 

"Hey," Vegeta began. 

"I fucked it up, didn't write one answer down. Why do I let him do this to me?" The woman was talking to herself. 

"Woman, I have a proposition for you"

Their eyes met, his were determined but hers were tinged with dejection, failure, and anger. "What do you want?"

In that moment, Vegeta almost considered not asking her to Saoire. The woman in front of him seem to be so broken by whatever situation she was in, that he almost felt bad for her.

"I heard your conversation, is everything alright?"

“Why do you care? It’s none of your business!”

“You were yelling in the hallway, everyone heard. Excuse the hell out of me for being concerned.”

“I broke up with my high school sweetheart today.”

“Ah, well…”

“He proposed to me over Facetime this morning.”

“Oh umm… so,” Vegeta was supremely uncomfortable by this. He wasn’t even sure why he had even asked her what was wrong, he didn’t care and with this turn of events, he was looking for a reason to bolt. Maybe he could pay someone on Craigslist to come home with him. 

“I mean - we have had lots of fights this semester, and I have been telling him it was over for a month now. A MONTH!” She slapped her hands on his shoulder with the last two words. “What part of _it’s over_ , screams, _please propose to me?_ And now, oh boy, now I have to go home and explain to my mom and dad and sister why their beloved Yamcha won’t be a permanent part of the family. If only there was a way to avoid that conversation.”

Nevermind, he might have just hit the jackpot with this one. She seems just angry and desperate enough to be away from her family and problems to come home with him… Wait that sounded wrong… but still. Vegeta knew from the classroom experience that she was crazy enough to make a distinct impression on his family. 

“You know, my parents have been trying to get me to bring a nice woman home for the holidays.”

“I just got out of one relationship, not interested.”

“Who said anything about a relationship? I just need a distraction so they stop asking me about my love life. Seems like you need to not be around your family and I really need to bring home a significant other.”

“Nah man… you are too cute to need to ask someone to pretend date you for your family. You must be damaged goods.”

“You have no idea, but I am just trying to get my family off my back. So what do you say? Our family house is on a private beach, you get a free trip to somewhere much warmer than here, and you don’t have to answer pesky questions from your family about your breakup.”

“The beach?”

“Yeah, it’s a small town, so there’s not much to do, but the weather there right now is a balmy 95.”

“When do we leave?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A super shout out to Vegebul_Soup who is writing the Sister fic to this one, [ Christmas with the Briefs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653578/chapters/51635554). She has been my partner in crime since the TPTH Smutfest and its been so much fun working with her for the past ten months!

The flight was annoying. The seats seemed to constantly be getting closer and closer to one another, the air was heavy with the smell of someone’s smuggled on lunch, there was a baby crying and yet, this blue haired woman had fallen into a sound slumber. Her head had lulled to the side and laid on his shoulder. Every time Vegeta attempted to shift, he would be subsequently smacked and whined at until he stopped moving. 

So here he was, two hours into a four hour flight, a pool of drool gathering on his left shoulder, listening to the not-so-soft sounds of her snoring into his ear. His eyes darted over the pages of Swann’s Way. His mind getting lost in the descriptions of the countryside and fascinated by Marcel’s obsession with Gliberte. 

After the plane landed, Vegeta collected his small luggage and waited patiently for the woman to gather the three bags she had brought. They hailed a cab and spent the long ride to his family estate in silence. They watched the tall buildings of the city turn into the large houses of the suburbs and finally the modest homes of the small town in which he was raised. When the smell of the salt air hit his nose, Vegeta was pulled into the nostalgic sensations of being back in a hometown he so desperately tried to forget. 

“Hey Cabbie, we need to make a stop before our final destination, can you pull into this PigglyWiggly?”

——————————

The cab pulled up to the grocery store, a grinning pig with a white butchers cap stared down at him. He knew he needed to do this, but he also knew the second he stepped foot into the building he may see people who knew him. That was not something he wanted, so he pulled the hood over his spiky hair. “Be back in a few minutes, for gods sake don’t leave,” Vegeta said to the cabbie before throwing open the door and stepping out, “And you, come on we gotta pick up some food.”

Vegeta stomped quickly through the aisles throwing mixed nuts, protein powder, beef jerky, peanut butter, and an assortment of fresh fruits in his basket. “You done?” He asked Bulma, looking back to see what she got. “Wait, where’s your groceries?”

“Groceries? Vegeta, is there no food at your house? Do we really need, Muscle Milk? Its a vacation for fucks sake! You should be filling that basket with eggnog, liquor and strawberry mochi!” 

“I mean, technically there’s food at the house, but I suggest you get something while we are here. Trust me, you will want it”

“Nah, I’ll be fine!”

They paid for their items and made the cab took off in the direction of the ocean. The houses became shorter to the ground, and many were painted in bright tropical looking colors like ocean coral drifted ashore. 

The cab pulled up to the driveway to Vegeta’s family home, and the two trudged out of the car. As Vegeta paid the driver, he felt an unfamiliar tug at his arm, “Here, you should help carry my stuff, since we are supposed to be dating.”

“Yeah, we need to talk about that,” Vegeta said. The woman quirked her head to him with an inquisitive expression painting his face. “You need to make them hate you.”

“In that case, you should carry all my stuff, I can definitely be the bratty girlfriend of your dreams, macho man.”

Vegeta took hold of all her bags, she had a point after all, and they began their walk up Vegeta’s parent’s long driveway. The path hid the ocean and their house behind a small hill. The two continued in silence, Vegeta following a step or two behind the woman watching her form sway softly in front of him. She was small, almost frail looking… well, she wasn’t small everywhere, Vegeta mused, his eyes lingering on her behind a bit longer than necessary. 

He was suddenly brought out of his thoughts by the woman stopping at the top of the hill. 

“Is this your home?” She asked, turning to face Vegeta.

He knew it was modest, not what most women would expect of a beach house. It was in truth a small bungalow, with several outdoor living areas all facing the cyan water. The sand reached its fingers towards the grassy edge of their living space as if it was looking to consume the house and bring the space back to nature. 

“Yeah - not what you were expecting Princess?” Vegeta grumbled in her direction. 

“No, it’s beautiful!” Her eyes sparkled as she spoke and the two paused to look over the grounds once more, it _was_ beautiful, scrub and palm trees and what could be considered exotic grasses were dotted around the brown bungalow, drawing the eyes to a stone pathway winding towards the front door - which welcomed its guests with a wreath made of palm fronds. “I mean, it is small, wish you would have warned me about that, but this really is paradise.”

The two continued up the drive, Vegeta attempting to keep his eyes focused forward when their trek was interrupted once again with a loud shriek. 

“Brother! You’re here!” The small form of Tarble bound out from behind the house and bolted towards Vegeta and Bulma. His body was still lanky, but he was fast, letting the wind made from his motions shift his hair back and forth as he sprinted towards Vegeta. Once he was in a good range, Vegeta noticed Tarble jump into the air, landing in an embrace with Vegeta that with the added weight of Bulma’s shit may have knocked him prone if he wasn’t expecting it. Vegeta dropped the bags from one shoulder and let his arm drape across his back, gripping him in a half hug. 

“Hi Tarble, You have gotten big!”

“Thanks? It’s only been a few months!”

“Yeah, but you turned 14 and I missed it! Face-timing you just wasn’t the same as being here.”

“Tell me about it ‘Geta, I had to eat a cake baked by mom.”

“Ugh Tarble, I am sorry about that, next time I will send you a cake.”

“You better! I have never had something both dry and gooey at the same time!”

The three walked together up to the house, Vegeta noticed Bulma hop from one stone of the walkway to the next as if playing hopscotch, before the front door flung open, startling her and making her slip off the stone into the scrub grass growing uncontrollably. Vegeta’s father, the spitting image of himself, albeit taller with a goatee, stood imposingly in the doorway. His black eyes were hidden below a heavy brow and shot back and forth between Vegeta, Bulma, Tarble and back to Bulma. 

“Dad’s been learning to surf,” Vegeta felt Tarble lean in and whisper in his ears, “don’t mention anything about what he’s wearing unless you wanna hear all about surf culture.”

“The fuck Tarble, there’s no waves here, why’s he trying to surf with no waves?!”

“Mostly he’s been paddle boarding, but don’t get him on the subject cause he thinks he is hardcore.”

“Really?!” Tarble’s shoulders lifted and his head nudged to the side letting Vegeta know that his best guess was as good as any. Vegeta should have known something was up, his father was wearing neon green board shorts with bright blue flowers printed all over them and a long sleeved Ron Jon t-shirt. 

“This the woman?” He gruffed, nodding his head towards Bulma.

“Yes sir! My name’s Bulma! It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She stuck her hand out to shake. Vegeta watched his dad look down at the tiny hand in front of him, a look of disgust on his face before he took it in his own and gave it a small squeeze. The larger man let go suddenly turned and screamed at the top of his lungs “Punkin, we have guests!” He then turned and walked away not acknowledging Vegeta, Bulma or Tarble again. 

“Whoa, dad hates her!” Tarble exclaimed trying to keep his voice low although he was struck in a fit of giggles.

“Yeah, he does,” Vegeta smirked. 

——————————

Vegeta pushed into the front door of the house. The rooms feel so much smaller than they did when he left, maybe because of the “cozy” spaces his mother we trying to create. Past the foyer, Vegeta lead Bulma through a narrow living space lined with bookshelves loaded with leather bound texts, cultural artifacts, family photos and various chotchkies. He walks straight to the hallway and looks over his shoulder to make sure he was being followed. 

She was looking at the books, letting her fingertips glide gently over each title. Her hands fell gently over a picture of him and Tarble taken right after his younger brother was born. In it, Vegeta is holding the bundle in his arms tightly and looking up at the camera, his bangs falling into his eyes which were wide and watery and a smile that stretched from ear to ear. She grabbed it up and turned to Vegeta, “Oh Em Gee, is this you?! You were so little and cute!”

He loved that picture. It was the first moment Vegeta knew he loved something. He could remember the way his own emotions welled up behind his eyes and threatened to spill out over his cheeks. Out of all the pictures, books and shit around the room, why did Bulma need to pick that picture up? It was the one thing in this room that meant anything to Vegeta, and she had honed in on it like a witch with a dowsing rod. She was here for one reason, and this baby fever she was apparently showing was going to make his parents think twice about how they felt about her. 

“Lets go, Woman.”

He moved down the hallway until he reached his room. It was genuinely small. A twin bed was shoved against the wall. Beside that, was a desk area which held an old alarm clock with blinking red numbers and a lamp. At the bottom of the bed stood enough room for his closet door to swing open. He gently placed each piece of luggage in the floor of the closet and turned to the woman. 

“This is your room?” 

“Yep”

“Like, all of it?”

“Yep”

“Where's the bathroom?”

“There's one in the house, its down the hall, first door on the left.”

“Wait, I thought you were rich, with a large beach house?”

“I never said I was rich, just that we had a beach house. I mean, they call it a bungalow, but some people may refer to it as a cottage.”

“Ok, well. Where do I sleep?”

Vegeta glanced around the room. “Here?! In this room. There is only a twin bed Vegeta.” Vegeta answered her by looking at the floor beside the bed. He never said anything about her stay being comfortable, just that she had to make his parents hate her. Frankly, Vegeta felt that by making him suffer through her and Dr. Gero’s arguments all semester she deserved to sleep on the floor. The carpet was plush and he could find an old egg crate from when they camped for her to sleep on. She would be _fine_.

“We have lived two completely different lives!” Bulma gritted out before pushing on Vegeta, “When I heard _Beach house_ I expected at least a guest room!”

“That is just too bad Princess, you are just gonna have to deal with my childhood room.”

“Get out - if I am gonna be stuck here until the new year, I am gonna spend it on the sand in my bikini.”

——————————

Vegeta stretched over the cushioned rattan lounge. He sat in comfortable silence continuing to explore Swann’s obsession with Odette as the breeze from the ocean gently swayed his hair. Tarble sat across from a large fire pit one leg lifting up the back of a boxy rattan chair, his other splayed over the armrest. His torso lay upside down letting his already gravity defying coif reach towards the ground while jerking his arms back and forth playing his Nintendo 3DS. 

“Hey Vegeta,” Table began shaking his arms back and forth and pressing buttons feverishly. 

Vegeta placed his e-reader in his lap and took his reading glasses off his nose, “Yes Tarble.”

“How did you ask blue head out?”

Vegeta clicked his teeth and sighed. He didn’t like the idea of lying to Tarble, but was struggling to find the right words. How much of the truth does he tell his brother? Is there a way to avoid this question altogether?

“Cause,” Tarble rolled over and fell out of the chair. Sitting up and tucking his legs underneath him he continued, “I met a girl, and I like her… a lot.”

“Really?! What’s her name?” Bulma’s form appeared behind the two. She wore what could only be described as stripper garb. Three tiny white triangles covered with cherries covered the most intimate areas of her body and were stuck together with string that bit into the woman's flesh. 

“Dammit woman what are you wearing?” Vegeta balked. He could feel his face begin to heat up. Not only was the clothing choice salacious but the items pictured on the fabric made the ensemble vulgar. 

“It’s a bathing suit! Cute huh?” She said as she turned in place. The swell of her rear was barely contained within the stretched fabric. 

“You look like a prostitute.”

“Excuse me?”

“I will gladly excuse you - you look like you need to put on some clothes.” The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to say something, do something when they were startled out of their match by Vegeta’s mother poking her head out the patio door.

“Heya guys and gals! Dinner will be ready in 20 minutes. Vegeta, why don’t you wash your hands and come set the table?”

Bulma stomped off, Vegeta could swear he heard her mumble an apology as she plowed through the door. 

——————————

The table looked gorgeous as always. It was a huge piece of cherry wood reclaimed from where-ever the hell Dad said they got this, but it sparkled with the natural light of candles. Sprigs of greenery flowed from the large floral centerpiece and dotted over the tabletop was plate after plate of food. There were bone in pork chops, bacon wrapped asparagus, mashed sweet potatoes, a wilted spinach salad with cranberries and chevre, and fresh made yeast rolls.

Vegeta looked over the feast nervously. He wasn’t sure how this was gonna go, but if history proved true, it would end up with him and Tarble fighting over the bathroom. His mother was, to put it nicely, a horrible cook. She stayed abreast of all the trends in cooking, there was a dark period of six months where she tried her hand at molecular gastronomy, now she seemed to be interested in the classics. Vegeta was surprised she hadn’t made some disgusting aspic to compliment the table. 

Bulma sat across the table from him, he watched her pile heaps of spinach, pork chops, asparagus and two rolls on her plate with a slight smile. It was an unspoken Breigh rule to never mention the food at the table. He was pretty sure the small pork chop he was able to get on his plate would have the consistency of cardboard, and taste like processed cheese and peanut butter He watched his father take a large gulp out of his water cup (Vegeta knew it was vodka - whatever it took to get through the meal), before putting half of the pork chop in his mouth and swallowing without chewing. Tarble had taken to taking shooters of hot sauce before eating anything at the table. 

Vegeta just suffered. Without pain, one does not grow. He cut a piece of the chop, it looked really good. Juices flowed from the cut, and the smell was mouthwatering, there was a nice crust on the outside of the meat from the browning in the pan. He placed the meat on his tongue, and immediately forced himself to not gag. How could something so fresh and juicy looking be slimy and slightly cold? The flavor itself was much better than he expected, however the apples his mother obviously cooked the meat in left a mealy too sweet flavor that contrasted sharply with the curry powder his mother sprinkled on the outside of the chop. He forced himself to swallow. The piece was a lump in the bottom of his stomach pulling at him like a cinder block tied to his feet. 

He diligently, like the good son he was, took several more bites of each dish before placing his fork and knife down, signaling that he was finished. His eyes landed on Bulma who was examining the meat like a scientist, she poked at the flesh and smelled it before taking the plunge and popping it in her mouth. She immediately spit it onto her plate. 

It was not lost on Vegeta that she had quite a pile of food that was obviously chewed and not finished on her plate. It was also not lost on him that his father continued to give her the side eye, disapproval dotting his face. 

She wasn’t doing anything most people would consider bad, she was just being here, being herself, but Vegeta could tell that everything she was doing was just contrary enough in Saiyan custom to make them hate her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check me out on Twitter [@bitchytimemach1](https://twitter.com/Bitchytimemach1)  
> or you can go to my [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ibitchytimemachine) and read through my reviews and recommendations!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shout out to my girl Vegebul_Soup who is writing the sister fic [Christmas with the Briefs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653578/chapters/51635554)!

Vegeta was walking up the driveway, the ocean breeze was particularly strong and blew him back and forth. He could hear his name being called but couldn’t see the person speaking to him. He caught sight of Tarble and tried to call out to him, only to find his words to be caught in his throat. Tarble sat close with a short girl, her face was blocked by a bush. Vegeta tried to move over towards them but was pulled back by a strong hand on his shoulder. He turned to see who was there and was face to face with his father in an orange speedo. “I’m going to play beach volleyball my boy come with me!” Father turned and ran towards the beach. Vegeta was still struggling with the force of the wind rocking him side to side and his feet were glued to the ground. His father turned again, waved and yelled, ”Vegeta!... Vegeta!”

His eyes slid open slightly. He could feel a pressure on his upper arms jerking him side to side, “Vegeta!” Bulma’s voice stirred him fully awake. She was seated on her knees on the edge of his bed laying over him and shaking him. _Of course it was a dream_ Vegeta thought. 

Shivering at the memory of the very real feeling dream Vegeta sat up gently and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He looked at the bedside alarm clock - 1:38. “It is the middle of the night woman, what do you want?”

“I didn’t eat anything for the past two days! I am hungry!”

“Not my problem, go to sleep.”  
“Completely your problem, if I don’t eat something soon I am gonna lose it. Gimme some of those snacks you bought the other day at the piggy store!”

“I told you to get your own snacks, but nooooo,” Vegeta elongated this word, “you didn’t think you needed it!”

“I asked you to take me back out to the store yesterday but you wouldn’t!”

“You know how to call a cab.”

“There are five cars out there, you can’t tell me that you aren’t allowed to take one.”

“I am of course allowed to take one, but I told you to get food. Maybe you will listen when I suggest something next time.”

“Vegeta, if I don’t get something to eat, I am going home first thing in the morning.”

“You wouldn’t!” Vegeta recoiled, he was all of a sudden certain that he needed to give in to the woman’s demands, otherwise he would be stuck here trying to explain things to his parents. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past his father to actually insist on an arranged marriage based on how his father had been acting recently. 

The night before, Vegeta and Bulma sat on the patio enjoying the fire pit. She was wrapped in a blanket drinking a hot chocolate watching the water batter the shore. Vegeta watched the fire lick the air. His father came to the patio door and scolded Vegeta, “You should warm that woman up yourself boy.” For a moment, Vegeta considered it, just slipping beneath the blanket with Bulma, just to shut his father up, no other reason at all. I mean sure, she was gorgeous with curves in all the right places, and even in some places Vegeta never considered to be all that enticing before. And sure she was witty, and always ready to argue, and one of the smartest people Vegeta knew. She was just a means to an end, nothing else. 

“Well Vegeta, your mother, Tarble and I are all going out to the movies and we will not be back until very late so you and that woman over there have the house all to yourself. Don’t disappoint me, boy.”

As soon as he could no longer hear the car, Vegeta turned and chastised Bulma. She knew her job here. She was to make his parents hate her, and everything seemed to be going well until his father all of a sudden started suggesting that they “spend some time alone - if you get my drift.” After that, the two decided that they needed to amp up their efforts. 

“I know! Let’s go get a burger!” Bulma sat up on her knees, she looked to be salivating and had a feral look in her eyes.

“The McDonalds in town closes at midnight, so does the Taco Bell.”

“Taco Bell closes at midnight! What kind of backwoods town have you brought me to?!”

“The kind with private beaches and no neighbors in sight, something you are lucky for since I know you enjoyed sunbathing topless yesterday.”

“You were watching me you perv!?”

“Well, you were flaunting around and I am a hot blooded man.”

“Jesus Christ Vegeta. You can’t just look at me.”

“Then wear clothes.”

“Touche. But really, I am so hungry.”

“I’ll make you a protein shake.”

“Fuck that, I need real food. Didn’t you buy beef jerky?”

“I did, fuckin’ Tarble found it and it’s gone now.”

“Shit, what else you got?”

“There’s a jar of peanut butter in that bag in my closet.”

“Perfect!” Bulma jumped off the bed and bent to dig in the luggage discarded in the bottom of the closet. Vegeta heard the rustle of bags and watched her bottom bob with the excitement of food. She popped up, “Success!” She turned around and ripped into the paper covering the top of the peanut butter.

“Wait, I have a spoon here somewhere,” Vegeta began, but before he could acquire said utensil Bulma shoved her first two fingers deep into the jar pulling a glob of the sticky goo out and popping it in her mouth. Lewd. She was lewd and vulgar. She groaned as she licked her fingers clean, darting her tongue in between each finger and running her tongue along the length of each finger before plunging them into the jar once again. 

“Are you quite done? It’s late, and you should try to get some sleep.”

“As if I could actually get some rest on this floor.”

Vegeta laid down, ignoring the woman sucking her fingers in his room, insistent to try and sleep.

——————————

Vegeta lazily opened his eyes. The sun drifted through his window giving the minimally furnished space an airy, empty glow. He sat up and noticed his door open, Tarble stood in the doorway, his eyes ping ponged between Vegeta and the bundle of blankets, limbs and blue hair in the floor. 

“Morning Tarble.”

The doe eyed teen seemed to be putting two and two together. Vegeta couldn’t let that happen. Lying to his parents, well that comes naturally to Vegeta, but lying to Tarble was something that he knew he would have trouble with. His brother was pure and deserved better than Vegeta had been treating him. All those years of brotherly bonding, Vegeta caring for Tarble when they were alone, Vegeta teaching him how to hide food in his room and sneak mother’s cooking into his napkin when no one was looking bonded the two. They were two sides of the same coin, and in it together no matter what. 

“Oh boy, Dad’s gonna be pissed. I knew something was up with you two.”

Well that isn’t what Vegeta was expecting, “Wait, what do you mean _Dad’s gonna be pissed?_ ”

“You know why we left last night, and now I walk in here and she’s on the floor, and clothed?”

“Oh come on Tarble, don’t talk like that. You sound like…”

“Like what? A teenager? Let me tell you something, I _am_ a teenager, and I happen to have eyes. You two may be fooling mom and dad, but not me.”

Bulma began to shift in her sleep. Vegeta wanted to end this conversation quickly before the woman woke up. “Get to the point Tarble.”

“There is no way you two are fucking. Hell, I bet you aren’t even dating.”

“How would you know?!”

“I can hardly go an hour without thinking about Gure, and anytime I am near her, all I want to do is look at her and touch her. I can only imagine how soft her hands are, or how squishy her butt is. I can’t keep my eyes off of her. You look at Bulma, but you never touch her. If I had a woman like that I wouldn’t be able to keep from kissing her, or copping a feel of those perky ti-”

“That’s enough!” Vegeta growled.

Bulma sat up and stretched her arms up and over her head. She leaned backwards pushing her chest out and Vegeta couldn’t help but look down at her white tank top - no bra, wait… he’s mad at Tarble. “You have roused us both now, I hope you’re happy.”

“I am!” Tarble announced with a wolfish grin. His eyes drifted lower than where Vegeta knew her face was. “Good morning Bulma.”

“Fuck off kid.” Bulma grumbled as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 

“By the way, mom wants to have a proper Saiyan family breakfast. Eggs will be done in ten minutes.”

“Shit, come on woman, get dressed.”

Vegeta grabbed some clothes and took them into the bathroom to get dressed. He threw on a pair of dark wash jeans and a black long sleeved t-shirt. He wasn’t looking forward to breakfast. Dinner was moms good meal. This woman created unspeakable atrocities when she cooked eggs. To waste more time, he brushed his hair and took a few minutes longer than he needed to brushing his teeth. With nothing else to create a diversion, he left the bathroom and shuffled to the dining room. 

The table was once again beautiful. The cherry tabletop glittered with cobalt plates and golden flatware. Large platters of breakfast meats, handmade biscuits, gravy, heaping platters of eggs and muffins were placed in the center of the table. Bulma had decided to throw on a purple hoodie over her tank top, but otherwise she had sat in her spot across from Vegeta looking just as she had when she woke up. A mess, she _looked_ like she had slept on the floor and immediately jumped up to come to breakfast. There was a white line of dried spit running down her chin, and her hair was poking up in all sorts of different directions. 

Vegeta looked over the offerings. He would be expected to get at least some sausage and he decided to be safer with a muffin. Mom made those out of a box so it was less likely those would be terrible. His father was diligently breaking up a biscuit and pouring an absurd amount of gravy over it, anything to make the food go down easier. Tarble was braving the eggs and had grabbed a slice of bacon. Bulma was breaking into a strawberry muffin, which summarily crumbled under her fingers causing her to make a face and start to pick up the pieces and pop them into her mouth. She gagged a bit and immediately grabbed for her glass of orange juice.

It was this moment Vegeta’s dad decided to speak. “You look like you had a good night.” and then under his breath Vegeta heard his dad mutter, “Better give me grandbabies soon.” 

A loud thump rang through the room as Vegeta’s mom slammed her foot down on her husband’s shoeless foot (he refused to wear shoes cause surfers didn’t need them).

Bulma poked her fork into a bit of egg she placed on her plate and Vegeta watched as she brought it up eye level. She shook the fork and watched the eggs jiggle slightly. She moved them closer and took a big sniff of them before making a face. Her tongue darted out experimentally and she threw her fork down. 

“I can’t do this.”

Vegeta blanched. Was she going to leave? What would he do when she left? How did his mother’s cooking bring this strong independent woman down in two and a half days? And most importantly, is there a way he can weaponize this to use against his enemies?

She continued, “I have put some pretty gross things in my mouth,” Vegeta notices her look his way as she says that. What the hell does that even mean? “But I can’t stomach another bite of this horrible fucking cooking. It’s terrible and I think you are trying to kill me.”

This was it. This is what is gonna make the family kick them both out. Maybe Vegeta can grab a flight back to school and go back to his life of speaking only to Tarble on a regular basis and avoiding all other calls from the household. 

No, instead Vegeta is horrified when Tarble and their Father burst out laughing. 

——————————

Vegeta and his father were trugging back towards their house. He had been cornered and convinced to come out for a bit of father son bonding over sports. Vegeta felt like a wet cat, having fallen into the water more than once. His Father threw out a large hand and smacked Vegeta on the back. 

“I am impressed my boy! When I went out my first time I could barely stand on the board!”

“That is because you are clumsy Dad!”

“That may be right, but you are a natural at everything you do! I don’t know if I have ever told you, but I am proud of you Jr.”

“Wow, thanks Dad. It’s nice hearing that.”  
The two continued their trek in comfortable silence. Vegeta had never felt this at ease with his father, and he wasn’t sure what the change was. Perhaps he was finally accepting Vegeta as a man in his own right? The Saiyan culture was very specific about how the rite of passage for adulthood was to happen, but so many of the old customs were outdated and Vegeta was sure that a pilgrimage to sacrifice an animal and have its blood smeared over your face to show you are a true warrior was not high on anyone’s list of things they looked forward to on their eighteenth birthday. 

As they made their way to the house, Vegeta spotted Bulma instantly. She was laid on the patio floor letting her arms hold her torso up, probably to get a good angle of the sun on her skin or some bullshit like that. She was wearing a hot pink two piece bathing suit which covered much more of her body than her white one, but not enough to be seen in public. Tarble sat on the edge of a chaise and the two spoke animatedly with one another. 

A pang of anger rose in his throat. All Vegeta could think about is Tarble’s quip about squishy and perky _things_. They dropped their gear off in their shed and Vegeta moved over to the two. 

“So one thing you can do is ask her questions. Even if she doesn’t know the answers maybe you can suggest you two study together. Many a study session of mine has ended in heavy makeout sessions!”

“Ok, so just anything?”

“Yeah if she can actually teach you something, and you can seem genuinely interested in her then you will be golden, cause you are a cutie. Oh! And find every excuse to touch her.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail or anything.. Isn’t that sexual harassment?”

“Nah, I mean, if she tells you to stop then you know stop. Consent is super important Tarble, but… well Let me show you!”

Bulma jumps up and skips over to Vegeta. She grabbed his hand and leaned into him letting the length of her arm touch his as she dragged him over to where his brother was sitting. Vegeta could feel his hand getting hotter with each second they were interlocked together, until she pulled her hand away. 

“So did you see what I did there? I pulled him in really close to me as we moved, that way there was a lot of contact Something else you can do is..”

Bulma turned to him and reached out to his shoulder pretending to pluck an errant piece of something from his shirt, “You had a piece of lint!” She said as she smoothed the fabric of his shirt over his shoulder. She then ran her hand through his hair, “just fixing it!” She said flashing a smile. His scalp was all tingly where her fingers had grazed his skin. Bulma continued to talk to Tarble, finding every chance she could to touch him. All Vegeta could think about was how this was all going sideways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check me out on Twitter [@bitchytimemach1](https://twitter.com/Bitchytimemach1)  
> or you can go to my [Tumblr](https://ibitchytimemachine.tumblr.com) and read through my reviews and recommendations!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my girl, Vegebul_Soup who is writing the sister fic to this one, [ Christmas with the Briefs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653578/chapters/51635554).

“Bulma! I took your advice and invited Gure over and she is on her way right now!”

“Wow Tarble, that is great news! What are you two gonna do?”

“I don’t know! You are the one who got me into this, so what the hell do I do?”

Vegeta was doing chair dips and witnessed this exchange first hand. Before he had the where-with-all to extricate himself from the area, he had Bulma jerking on his arm. 

“I know,” she cheered, “we will all get together and go swimming!”

“Nah Buls, Gure is afraid of the water.”

Wait, Buls? Since when was Tarble so buddy buddy with his fake girlfriend to give her a nickname. And also, Buls? What kind of stupid nickname is that? Sweet Cheeks, yeah, that was much better. 

“Ok well, what does she like to do?”

“Well, she is super athletic. Small and scrappy you know.”

“Ahh.. well, I am shit at sports, but maybe we can do some sort of couples sports together?”

“Nope,” Vegeta said.

“Oohh! We have that old volleyball and net in the shed.”

“No way,” Vegeta gruffed. He was not being dragged into this.

“Yeah! Get to show off your teamwork, great idea!”

“Hello? Anyone listening to me?” 

“Ok, will you help me set it up Buls?”

“Sure!”

Vegeta sat arms behind him holding his bodyweight up at right angles, the burn from his arms was nothing compared to the burn from the anger boiling up from his gut. He watched the two of them wander off together. What the hell just happened? 

“Boy!” The sound startled Vegeta so much he jumped and lost his grip on the seat making him hit the ground. 

“Why’d you have to startle me like that Dad?” 

“We are all going out to dinner tonight to Grand Cow Chow. Make sure your woman is ready by 6.”

\---------------------

Tarble was in rare form, he had spent the entire time Gure was at the beach house throwing shade at Vegeta. It was something he was completely unused to, but he wasn’t so upset about it considering he was wooing his girl. She was cute, small, and fierce. Kind of the opposite physically of what Saiyans wanted in a mate, but her attitude and cheery personality reminded Vegeta of tales of his mother in her youth. 

They had spent the better part of the time Gure was at the house setting the damn volleyball net up, every time they thought they had the thing set in the ground it would fall over. Once it was settled in the sand and stable, they began their game. 

They were all really, really bad. Vegeta didn’t think he was that bad until he went to serve and the ball didn’t even reach the net before it tumbled into the sand. Bulma was even worse, she jumped after Vegeta set the ball to her, and missed the spike completely, swooping her fist through the air spectacularly. Tarble could get the ball in the air but had no control over where it landed so it would fly off to the side. But Gure would find every moment to touch his arm and congratulate him on his efforts. Even Vegeta could see her attraction to his little brother. 

Bulma pulled Vegeta’s arm and encouraged him to take a stroll down to the shore where the two simply talked. Which was something the two had never really done. He found out she truly hated Dr. Gero for some old family conflict, and that is why he was so combative in his classroom. Vegeta confided that he was not truly a journalism major and that his job at the paper was a show for his parents. 

It was easy to talk to her, there was no pressure. She was the first person other than Tarble that Vegeta felt he could just be still with. Maybe they could be good friends after this was over. The sun beat down on them and Bulma decided it was time to go begin getting ready for dinner. They linked arms and began the trudge to the house. Bulma skipped off to the bathroom to shower, and Vegeta collapsed in an armchair on the patio. 

He sat quietly thinking about the day and the odd turn it had made. He knew he would just hate all the time he was spending with the woman, who knew she would be so… complex and interesting? She was caring and gentle and almost the opposite of everything that Vegeta knew from home. 

As he contemplated the woman and his day, he became well aware of a rustling sound, heavy breaths and the sound of something wet. Curious, he stood and walked toward the palm frond the sound was emanating from. He pulled it back revealing Tarble, hands up Gure’s shirt tongues twisted together. The two jumped apart and Gure said, “OK Tarble, so I’ll see you tomorrow at the feast!” Before running off. 

\---------------------

Vegeta sat in a large leather chair next to the bookshelves lining the living room.  
The entire family was ready, Tarble sat quietly at the kitchen table engrossed in his phone, which gently buzzed every few moments. His mother and father sat together in one of the chaise lounges on the patio necking.

Whereas Vegeta took two minutes to throw on a pair of dark wash jeans and a crimson turtle neck, Bulma had been locked away in Vegeta’s bedroom for over an hour getting ready. The only other person so dedicated to the way things looked and not functioned was Vegeta’s mother who would agonize over the way the table looked at dinnertime, and forget to actually cook the food properly. Currently, she donned a long-sleeved navy velvet dress which was getting crumpled more and more every moment Bulma took to get ready, based on the suggestive sounds wafting through the patio door. 

Vegeta heard the bedroom door slam shut and he rose to his feet, starving and ready to get this night the fuck over. Bulma appeared in the doorway and Vegeta’s eyes raked up her body starting at the barely-there golden heel she was balanced upon. The woman was wearing skin-tight jeans which rose to another tight, and lacy black top with a neckline that plunged below the swell of her breasts, overtop a bright red blazer hung loosely, hiding, or hinting at, the vulgar body below it. 

“Like what you see?” Bulma asked.

“Yeah,” Vegeta squeaked, unable to keep his mouth from uttering it. “Uh I mean, you are showing off too much of,” his hands waved in front of himself, “those.”

“Is that any way to greet your woman boy?” Vegeta felt a strong hand push him towards Bulma. He stumbled forward before his feet took over and brought him in front of her. 

Vegeta threaded his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him. Her body planted softly against his body and he felt her place her chin on his shoulder. He leaned his mouth down to her ear, “you look lovely and sophisticated Bulma.”

“Alright! Lets go eat!” Tarble announced as he bounded towards the front door. They all piled into the same SUV and rode the ten minutes to Grand Cow Chow, the best steakhouse in town, in veritable silence. 

It was a down-home sort of restaurant. Nice, but simple. It looked as if a ranch home was placed right on the beach. There was light pine wood illuminated softly by sconces around the outer walls and an unassuming chandelier hanging from the center of the room, the far wall was open to the shore and tables were placed for seaside dining. The tables were adorned simply with sturdy flatware, large wine glasses, and pillar candles.

The family sat at their seats and were immediately greeted by a tall lanky gentleman with long flowing hair, “Would the Breigh family care for wine today?”

“Oh yes of course! We are celebrating!” Mother spoke for the table, “As you know tomorrow is the hunt and feast!” 

Vegeta watched as Bulma chugged an entire glass of red wine and poured herself another hefty portion. He leaned to the side, placing his mouth close to her ear, “Slow down, you haven’t had anything except peanut butter this week!”

Bulma answered him by pouring more wine into her glass and drinking it while locking eyes with him. This was a challenge. Vegeta rose his glass to his lips and let the sweet alcohol slide down his throat before pouring himself a second glass. The table was silent and Vegeta was well aware of the eyes of his parents and brother on the two. 

“Ah, would the table like another bottle of Cabernet?”

“Yes, and I believe we are ready to order as well.”

“Splendid! What can I get for you madam?”

The man took all the orders with a smile pausing only when Bulma asked if their steak came any larger than 16 ounces. “Madam, that is a very large cut, are you sure you want that?”

“I have subsisted on Jif all week, I am ready for some edible food dammit!” Bulma cursed, “I also want a Caesar salad at the table ASAP.”

“She is quite grumpy and peckish, please excuse her behavior.” Vegeta’s father spoke up. 

“Ah, yes I believe the kids now call it _hangry_.” The man said with a smile. “I will put this order in for you and be back with a new bottle.”

The table sat in relative silence, Table drummed his fingertips across the table rhythmically, almost as if an invisible drum set were there, and Vegeta’s father and mother looked salaciously at one another. Vegeta just knew they were engaging in a game of footsie below the table. Bulma’s salad was set in front of her, and she dug in heartily.

The entire table stared at Bulma watching her shove forkful after forkful of lettuce, cheese and dressing into her mouth. Vegeta cringed at the unhinged chewing and gnashing sounds emanating from her mouth. Vegeta’s mother’s eyes were scrunched up and her mouth was agape in a horrified silent scream.

Bulma finished her salad and immediately drank down another glass of wine. Vegeta noticed she seemed to sway gently in her seat. 

“So Bulma,” Vegeta’s father began, “Vegeta told us he met you in Physics class?”

“Yeah, I’m in that old coots class as a favor to my dad. Gero’s really smart, but good grief his ethics are dangerous.”

“Oh so dear you are a scientist?” Vegeta’s mother cooed.

“I mean, I dabble and help daddy out in his lab, but right now I am just exploring and seeing where my passions lead me.”

“Ah, youngsters and their passions. My dear, when I was young it was imperative to get an education in something useful, passions won’t pay the bills,” chided Vegeta’s father. 

“Yes, Vegeta wanted to pursue creative writing, but we talked him into something more useful, although journalism is slowly dying, so I am sure he will be a pauper based on his major.”

“Can it mom, we have had this discussion - my major be it journalism or creative writing, will be not only useful but relevant in any situation.”

“Bulma my dear, our suggestion is to find a passion for a hobby, but pursue something useful for your career. The economy is not very good for creative minds you know dear.”

“You are right! But whose fault is it that the economy is doing so poorly? It’s not my generation who is literally fighting to survive, drowning in debts that the older, more complacent population has built up. You and your generation are the reason we are struggling not only to buy houses but also simply pay for school.”

Vegeta sat back in his chairs and took a deep sip of his wine. Tarble kicked Vegeta under the table and mouthed the words, _Stop her_.

“Bulma, who says this economy is our fault? Also, you can’t tell me that you _want_ to be a starving artist.”

“First, you don’t know me, so you don’t get to tell me what I do and do not want. Second, who says I need to worry about money? Do you even know who my father is? Third, you can say it's not your fault when you and your generation are complicit in the demise of the dollar and the strength of our countries relations in the world.”

“Bulma, when we started working, we were making 1.75 zenni an hour. Now youngsters are making over 10 zenni an hour and complaining that they can’t make ends meet! Why can’t they buckle down and budget for once, move out of their parents' house and actually work for a living.”

“You can _not_ be serious Mr. Breigh! Do you happen to remember how much a loaf of bread was when you were our age? What, about a quarter? Now we pay at least 3 zenni for the same loaf of bread. Housing, in the 70’s - the average house in the 70’s when you were starting out was around 23,500 zenni. Nowadays the same house would cost almost 300,000 zenni. Do you think someone who had to get a college degree, or hell even basic certifications to do trade work for 10 zenni an hour can afford a 300,000 zenni house? Not to mention the fact that we have to deal with bullshit like parents begging their children to settle down and have babies before we can even get out of college?”

The food came and was placed gently down in front of each member of the family. No one paid any attention, however, Vegeta let his eyes move across the room. Bulma had become quite loud as she ranted, and as he suspected, the whole restaurant was watching the debacle out of the corner of their eyes. He smirked and began to cut into his steak. 

“I have to admit Mr. and Mrs. Breigh, I had hoped you were different than most of your generation, I mean Vegeta is great, if not a bit annoying, but you are just like the other old people I know. Disappointing and small-minded.”

With that, Bulma cut into her steak and stuffed a large chunk in her mouth. The family ate in relative silence, the occasional pass the rolls were uttered, and the wine bottle was replaced with coffee and water. The family finished their meal and stuffed into the car once more for a silent ride home.

Bulma stumbled out of the car and let herself into the house. Vegeta followed her and gently closed the bedroom door behind the two. “Bulma, that was awesome! I know they are gonna hate you now.”

Bulma struggled out of her jacket before slamming it against the floor. “Vegeta, if you think I did that for you, then you are an idiot. Your parents needed to hear that they are being childish and selfish.” She wiggled out of her pants, continuing to speak. Vegeta couldn’t hear any of what she was saying. He was mesmerized by the swing of her hips as the fabric slid down her thighs, revealing black lacy panties donned with a bow. Why was she getting undressed right now? What did this mean? She was just a raving drunkard, nothing else. He felt his face getting hot, and his stomach lurched as she crossed her hands and slid her shirt off revealing a matching lace bra pushing her assets up and in. Gods, what was happening? Vegeta turned around and shifted his stance to try and relieve the growing sensation in his nether regions. It had been too long for him, and this drunk woman getting naked in his bedroom was making him reexamine priorities. 

“Hey, are you listening to me?” Her hand landed on Vegeta’s shoulder and he turned around. She was in her nightclothes, although her nipples peeked through the thin white fabric. 

“Why were you doing that in front of me?”

“What? Getting dressed?” Bulma shrugged, “Maybe I am just that drunk right now.” She giggled. “I mean you’re not bad looking, and I know I am beautiful.”

“Stop it, woman. You are pissed drunk, I’m not that type of man.”

“Glad to hear it,” Bulma cooed biting her bottom lip, “but did you hear what I said?”

“No! I was too busy trying to ignore you!”

“I said, there is no way in hell I am sleeping on the floor tonight badman.” Bulma lilted over to his bed and plopped down snuggling deep under the covers. Vegeta resigned himself to the floor and grabbed a pair of sweat pants to change in the bathroom. 

When he came back into the room Bulma was breathing softly and rhythmically. Vegeta began to adjust the pillows and blankets on the floor when he heard, “I thought you were a gentleman? You aren’t gonna leave me alone up here, are you? Come snuggle with me.”

“I don’t snuggle woman.”

“Well, I can tell you from experience that the floor is very much uncomfortable. You have a big day tomorrow, come on up to bed.”

Vegeta slid into bed, squeezing his large frame on the twin mattress beside her. He felt her slender arms curl around his torso, “What do I need to expect for tomorrow’s festivities Vegeta?”

“Well, it’s a festival celebrating the union of man and woman. How they work together for the success of the tribe. It also symbolizes the sanctity of family union and virility and fertility. Father and Tarble and I will head out to the jungle area and hunt two animals. The women will prepare the altar on the shore while we are gone. We will come home and spit roast one, men and women are not to commingle or see each other till the feast begins. While we are roasting the carcass, you and Gure and mother will prepare the rest of the feast. Vegetables, candies, and loaves of bread are most traditional, and then we will meet at dusk to feast before we engage in the sacrifice and bloodletting.”

Vegeta paused, he heard Bulma’s soft breaths, she was asleep. 

——————————

Five AM came way too early. Especially when he had to peel a half-drunk woman off his chest. He didn’t mind the extra bodyweight holding him to the bed, he didn’t mind the snoring that woke him multiple times through the night, he didn’t mind the drool that had pooled on his white tank top. He did mind the leg that had wound itself in between both of his own and nestled carefully below his family jewels. 

He dressed quickly and quietly and slipped out of the house to join his father and brother on the beach to create the fire for the roast before gathering in the truck. They had to squeeze more than ever now since Vegeta and his brother had grown out and up. Their shoulders collided with one another as the truck bounced down the road. Tarble’s head landed on Vegeta’s shoulder as he slipped off to catch some more sleep. 

The hunt went smoothly. Vegeta’s father was immensely proud as his two boys made the two kills. Vegeta was proud because it was his brother who brought down the prize boar, the one for the sacrifice. The men made quick work of field cleaning the smaller of the two and after hauling them into the truck bed, putting away their weapons and cleansing themselves began their trek back home. 

The pickup truck was backed up to the beach area and the men setting the spit roast over the coals from the roaring fire. Tarble and Vegeta’s father threaded the boar on the spit while Vegeta hauled the large boar to the altar. Vegeta was impressed. The altar was a large stone table set on a rocky bluff overlooking the sea. Flora was draped over the edges of the altar two large pillar candles were placed on either side, and the Saiyan crest was emblazoned over the top of the stone in gold. The women had outdone themselves in the decoration of the altar. Vegeta lifted the boar and placed it on the altar being careful to not muss the women’s morning work. 

When he came back, the coals were spread along the pit and Tarble was spinning the boar over the coals slowly. Vegeta’s father handed each boy a beer before they settled in to watch the roast and take their turn rotating the prize. 

“My boys, I am so proud of you.” Vegeta’s father said after a few hours and several beers. 

“Really? Thanks, dad!” Tarble beamed. 

“Yes, Tarble. You have proven yourself a man in Saiyan tradition today, and have gained the affections of a wonderful young lady in Gure. And Vegeta, you are so headstrong and do not back down from your convictions, like Bulma. Your mother and I greatly approve of her.”

“Wait, she like bitched you out in public yesterday,” Tarble said. 

“Yes, and that fire shows that she has drive and determination. Those are things you want in a mate, and she will make you happy in the long run my boy. Grandbabies or not, we approve of your match with the woman.”

“I wonder if any of the rest of the feast will be edible.” Vegeta mused out loud, ignoring his father’s ramblings. 

“Hahaha, well my boy, we are Breighs! We will suffer through whatever is thrown our way!”

“At least the meat will be edible,” Tarble said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check me out on Twitter [@bitchytimemach1](https://twitter.com/Bitchytimemach1)  
> or you can go to my [ Tumblr ](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/ibitchytimemachine) and read through my reviews and recommendations!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the end y'all! I hope you have enjoyed this fluffy little fic, and if you did leave me a comment and let me know what you liked! 
> 
> Sorry this is posted so late, life amirite?
> 
> Another shout out to my girl Vegebul_Soup who is writing the sister fic [Christmas with the Briefs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21653578/chapters/51635554)! It was super fun working with her on this project!

Vegeta sat nervously at the dinner table. Things looked good. Really good in fact. The food even smelled good. This must be some sort of trick. Gure, Mother and Bulma outdid themselves with the presentation this year. It was super simple but drew you into the main feature of this tradition, the food, and the company. At the center of the table sat slabs of the roast boar and sat around it were traditional feast dishes. A root vegetable medley garnished with fresh herbs steamed and glistened in the waning light of day, a plate of brussels sprouts dripped with the hint of a glaze, fresh crusty rolls lay piled one on top of the other. Other plates full of cheesy corn, rice flecked with green herbs and a bready sausage casserole dish filled the table. The usual table adornments were missing, leaving the table looking bare in contrast to its usual grandeur. 

“May Mother Earth give bountiful harvest, while Father Moon overlooks us throughout this new year.” Vegeta’s mother crooned in dulcet tones before she sat gently. 

Vegeta looked over his father and brother before grabbing a huge portion of meat and dipping a touch of the other foods onto his plate. In Saiyan tradition they dig in, Vegeta grabbed a thick slab of meat by his hands and shoved it into his mouth. The meat fell apart and juices began dripping down his chin. It was delicious. He took a large drink of his wine before picking up his fork and jamming it into the bread sausage concoction on his plate. It was meat and bread… no possible way it could be bad right?

He shoved the fork in his mouth and began chewing wildly when a rich, fatty, herby flavor erupted on his tongue. He looked up, feeling confusion spread over his features. His father and Tarble’s faces were equally painted with the same odd look, their brows scrunched together and eyes bulged as they began putting their mothers cooking into their mouths. 

“What's the matter, boys?” Bulma sang. 

“It’s…” Tarble began.

“So fucking good.” Vegeta finished. 

“Really?!” Vegeta’s mom exclaimed. 

“Yeah Mom, this is delicious,” Vegeta said.

“What’d you do differently punkin?”

“Oh us girls don’t kiss and tell!” Bulma was saying.

“Bulma taught me some stuff!” Vegeta’s mother said her words spewed out of her mouth over what Bulma was saying, “I am so excited to cook more delicious food for you all!”

——————————

Vegeta sat in the sand with Bulma. The pair mimicked the actions of Vegeta’s parents, Bulma sitting in front of him and leaning back into his chest. She was perched solidly on his currently distended stomach and it was uncomfortable when she wiggled around, which happened way more than it should. Vegeta had wrapped his arms around her waist and found his fingers drawing gentle circles along her arm. His face snaked around the side of hers, the strawberry smell of her hair invaded his nose and the hair itself tickled his face. He turned his head slightly to look at her, “You never told me you cooked.”

“You never asked.”

“Touche. Why did you suffer all week eating peanut butter and beef jerky if you actually knew how to cook stuff?”

“My mother is a wonderful woman. Great at everything she does, including cooking. She is wonderful and overbearing. Not only does she have to be perfect at everything, but so does her daughter. So I started learning very young how to be a proper lady and wife, and that includes cooking for my man.”

“Tch that is misogynistic bullshit.” 

“A proper lady from the dark ages.”

Vegeta just blew out his air in a huff. 

“She was not happy when I spent so much time with my father in his dank dirty lab. Science and math were, after all, for boys, and what man would want a woman who could think?”

“Sounds like you weren’t very happy there.”

“My family is wonderful. I love my mother, she wanted the best things for me, she is mostly just misguided, please don’t twist my words.”

“It is ok to feel strongly about how you are raised, especially when your personal values clash with the values of those who raised you. You can still care for people even when you disagree with them. All of those feelings are valid.”

“You’re pretty smart you know?” Bulma said turning her face to look at him. 

They were so close to one another. Really it probably looked as if they were kissing with how close they were. He could feel her breath on his face, it was hot and with each puff he could feel his cheeks grow warmer and warmer. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Bulma chewed on her bottom lip as she looked into him. Vegeta could just lean forward slightly and feel how soft and warm they were on his own. 

“So what’s this part of the celebration?” Bulma asked finally. 

“This is the melding of spirits. In Saiyan tradition, in-between the feast and midnight sacrifice we meld. In the old days it was just an excuse to engage in orgies I think. But when the celebration became more… religious and family-oriented, the melding became more about the joining of one another spirits under the moon.”

“So y’all cuddle! I knew Saiyan were just a buncha softies! Also - I don’t think there’s anything more family-oriented than some good old fashioned fucking.”

“You VULGAR woman!” 

Bulma laughed at this outburst and Vegeta’s heart clenched in his chest. He had been sure he hated her a week ago, and now the thought of their souls melding under the light of Father Moon made his stomach flutter. He was all of a sudden unsure if he wanted to let her go tomorrow when they made their way back to their college town. Vegeta tightened his arms around her more, relishing in this time he had her. He would take advantage of the charade they were putting on as long as he could. 

“Looks like your parents are melding in the old fashioned way over there Vegeta!” Bulma’s arm outstretched pointed in the distance.

Reflexively, his eyes pulled towards where she was pointing. He saw his parents laying quite a bit away from them in the sand, grinding upon another - way too much visual information for him not only in that particular moment but ever. “Oh gods, why would you point that out to me?”

“Why would you look!” Bulma burst out laughing, she was ethereal. She turned her head to look at him again. _Still so very close._

“I honestly have no clue woman.” He said leaning forward to press his forehead against hers. He expected her to pull away in disgust, but instead, she pressed forward. He liked to think she was enjoying their close contact. He liked to think she enjoyed their time together this week. He liked to think she even enjoyed his crazy family. But he would be remiss to believe a woman like this would be interested in someone like him. Instead, he would take pleasure in this fantasy just a bit longer. 

They sat there until it was time to begin the sacrifice. Vegeta spent the time blocking out the horrid sounds of his parents melding in the old fashioned way 50 yards away. Instead of paying attention to the twitching of his brows the surrounding sounds brought on, he focused on the calm deep breaths of the woman pressed to him and the way her body felt right next to his. 

“It is time for the bloodletting boy,” Vegeta looked up at his father’s face, his mother stood slightly behind him. They both looked happy. Vegeta felt like he was going to be ill. 

Vegeta helped Bulma up, he gripped her palm and pulled her into his chest as he guided her towards the altar. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “now that our souls have melded, we perform a silent ceremony where we offer a blood sacrifice to Father Moon to thank him for protecting us, and the body of the sacrifice traditionally gets buried to nurture Mother Earth. We just dump the boar into the ocean and let the sharks take care of it. Afterwards, there is a moment of reverence for us to pay personal thanks to our spiritual parents.”

“So what do we have to do?” Bulma’s voice was low and husky. 

“Mostly just stand there.”

“Mostly?!”

They arrived at the altar, Vegeta and Bulma stood beside Gure and Tarble while their mother and father move close to the altar. It did no escape Vegeta’s notice that Gure was flushed and her short pixie cut was messed up. Tarble held her close, a sly grin over his face. Vegeta pulled Bulma back into his chest while his mother handed his father the dagger. 

They watched in silence as Vegeta’s father sliced the belly open, letting what blood had no coagulated in the boar spill over the altar. With each squelch created by the act, Bulma jumped and leaned into Vegeta. He welcomed the contact and rubbed his hands over her arms to calm her nerves. Once the last of the blood oozed out, the boar was raised over Vegeta’s father's head and tossed into the crashing waves below them. Vegeta’s father took his finger and swept it through the blood and began to mark Vegeta’s father. Tarble moved away from Gure to do the same. Vegeta had neglected to warm Bulma, so he took one moment to squeeze her arms before he pulled his shirt off and moved to sweep his fingers through the blood of the boar. He moved to Bulma and faced her. He swept a bit of blood on his lower abdomen before needing in front of her and gently raising Bulma’s shirt. He passed a swath of blood over where her womb resided before placing a gentle kiss to her skin. He raised and swiped his thumb across his forehead and pressed his to hers. 

Their eyes locked, and he noticed the questions in them. He gently shook his head back and forth, it was still not acceptable to speak, and really what words could he give for what was happening? Saiyan tradition was mostly based on food, fighting and fucking. Which realistically made this holiday particularly holy in the eyes of the Saiyan pantheon. 

Once Vegeta’s parents deemed enough time to have passed, they began their silent trek back to the beach house. Vegeta grabbed Bulma’s hand and began to lead her home. 

——————————

“What was that last thing Vegeta?” Bulma had perched on top of his desk while she towel-dried her hair. The desk must have been cheap as hell cause under her minuscule weight, it shook back and forth dangerously.

“I forgot to mention it,” Vegeta said awkwardly. It was a weird and old fashioned ritual. Although Vegeta knew how bizarre it was as the week progressed, he looked forward to Bulma being a part of the ceremony even if it was just a ruse designed to fool his parents. 

But what he was feeling wasn’t a ruse, it was something real, something more. The pair's flight left tomorrow, and Vegeta knew that their time was coming to a quick end. He knew he wanted to make the best out of the little time he had left with Bulma. 

“The ceremony is designed to promote virility of the male, fertility of the female and the mental, emotional bond they share.”

“All while the women cook and clean and the men hunt?”

“The Saiyan culture was historically not super forward-thinking when it came to women’s rights. But your meal was delicious, I have never eaten anything that tasty in this house.”

“Well thank you Vegeta.”

“You umm. Must be tired. I know sleeping in the floor won’t let you rest. Care to join me again tonight?”

Vegeta did not miss the pink dusting her cheeks as Bulma tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Ummmm, are you sure? The bed is really small.”

“Oh! Well, I mean, if you would prefer I could sleep on the floor?”

“No! It gets cold and you are like my own personal heater. Plus, I enjoyed being close to you last night.” 

“Me too,” Vegeta admitted as he switched the light off. Bulma pulled the covers off the bed and nestled herself next to the wall. Vegeta slid in beside her, and she rolled to lay her head on his shoulder, her arm snaked across his chest. His breath hitched when he felt her fingers explore the expanse of his upper body.

“Sorry, I have just been wondering if you were as hard as you look.”

“Am I?”

“Harder.”

Vegeta gulped. His nerves were on edge and he was afraid that he would show his interest to her. She didn’t seem opposed to how close they had been all night, but women were such an enigma to Vegeta. “Thanks?”

“Sorry, I’ll let you rest,” Bulma said as she pulled her arm away from him. 

“No, its ok,” Vegeta said grabbing her hand and pulling it back across his chest. He felt her intertwine with his and the last thing he remembered before sleep taking him was the faint sounds of her breath as she snuggled close to him. 

——————————

Vegeta awoke to the smell of bacon. His eyes slid to the clock on the bedside table, 7 am. They had two hours before they had to leave for the airport. 

The blanket had inconveniently been pulled off of him Vegeta shared the bed with a burrito sprouting arms and legs. Those limbs were stretched over his body. Vegeta had an arm over his chest and a knee dangerously close to his crotch. He needed to get up and rid himself of his early morning _friend_. He tried sliding out of bed without shifting Bulma, however, the door slammed open. 

“Morning sunshine! Mom said to get you two up for breakfast.”

“Shut the door!” Vegeta hissed without trying to wake the sleeping person beside him. Bulma shifted at the noise and pulled her knee closer to Vegeta’s crotch. He could feel himself involuntarily twitch at her proximity to him. Tarble also noticed and began to laugh. 

“You really need to get laid, dude. I’ll give you some privacy, and my personal advice to hit that hot piece.” Tarble turned and left. 

Vegeta let out a sigh, now he could get up, go to the bathroom and take care of himself and head to breakfast. Tarble was right about one thing, Vegeta had some excess stress that this whole visit gave him and he needed to rid himself of that excess tension before he blew. Vegeta could take solace in the fact that Tarble was the only person who witnessed him in this situation. Vegeta remembered walking in on the boy in many compromising situations, one involving a coconut for christ's sake, so he was sure this would not be brought up. 

Vegeta rolled his head to look at Bulma before getting up and getting ready for the day. To his horror he was met with the two bluest eyes he had ever remembered seeing. He felt her pull into him more and her chin met his shoulder, “good morning sunshine.” She smiled at him, it was mischievous and her brow quirked up as she spoke. 

“Morning. Umm… breakfast is ready so I’ll just see you out there.” Vegeta slid out from her grasp. He grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt off the floor, holding them in front of his boxers before he stood and went to the bathroom to change. 

Breakfast was fucking delicious. Apparently, Bulma had taught Vegeta’s mother quite a bit in the time they spent together the day before. The eggs were soft and buttery, bacon was crisp and toast was golden. The five shared light banter over the meal and after throwing his stuff into his duffel he found himself in the backseat of a car beside Bulma, his parents chauffeuring them to the airport. 

He listened as his mother gushed over how much they enjoyed having Bulma at the house and how she just had to come back. Vegeta watched as the buildings grew from the squat beach homes to the grandiose mansions in the suburbs and finally the skyscrapers of the city. The car pulled up to the airport, Vegeta shook his father's hand, was kissed by his mother and before they knew it, the two were seated next to each other on the airplane. 

His fingers slipped into his coat. He felt around the small box nestled in his hi pocket. He was all of a sudden nervous about this idea. He knew since the moment he was bringing her home that she would miss her own traditions concerning Christmas and something about missing those celebrations, no matter how materialistic or silly to Vegeta, didn’t settle well with him. 

“So Bulma,” he began. 

“Yeah, Vegeta?”

“I - I had a good time with you this week.”

“Me too! Thanks for bringing me along! Your family is great you know.”

“I ummm... I- uh I.. got you something... You know? For Christmas.” Vegeta pulled the package out of his pocket. His mother wrapped it for him in a sparkling blue paper, Vegeta noticed Bulma’s eyes matched the paper perfectly. 

“A present?”

“Yeah, you give gifts on Christmas in your family, right? I never got any before because we don’t celebrate.”

Bulma began to open the paper. Vegeta was nervous, would she like it?

“You’ve never gotten a gift before? What about birthdays?”

The paper came off with a flourish and

“Yeah - my father always said that getting one year closer to manhood was the present.”

“Wow, that must have been difficult for you.”

Bulma popped the lid of the box open. Her eyes grew large. “Not really, you don’t know what you are missing out on when you never experience things.”

“Oh my God Vegeta, these are beautiful.” He had slipped out to the jewelry store with his mother and picked clear aquamarine earrings set in rose gold. She began putting them on and Vegeta was pleased to see they fit her complexion and odd hair coloring as well as he imagined. “You really shouldn’t have spent this much on me!”

“Money isn’t a problem I worry about Bulma.”

“But really. This is extravagant. We have been fake dating!”

“I know, but maybe this will help you remember me.”

“I don’t think I will be forgetting you anytime soon Vegeta.”

"Really?"

"I ummmm. I have my own confession Vegeta. I never tried to make your parents hate me. I have had a huge crush on your grumpy butt all semester."

Vegeta didn't know how to unpack that confession, so instead he threaded his fingers with her own and let her lay her head on his shoulder.They spent the rest of the plane ride in silence. Bulma fell asleep again and this time Vegeta didn’t mind the drool as much, and throughout the trip, he peppered her hair with gentle kisses. 

The plane landed and the two shared an Uber back to the university district. It was dark by the time the black Honda pulled up to the address Bulma listed as her apartment. Vegeta insisted on seeing Bulma into her building, saying he could walk from there, after all, it was only a few blocks away. Bulma turned to him and grabbed his hand.

“I know you said you never got a gift before, can I give you one?”

“S-Sure.”

Bulma leaned into him and pressed her lips to his. He felt her tongue flit out and he opened his lips. Her tongue slinked into his mouth and the taste of coffee and strawberries invaded his senses. He deepened the kiss and pulled his arm around her waist pulling her closer to him. Time stopped for him and the only things that mattered at that moment were the two of them in the cold, blocking the sidewalk. Bulma pulled away and Vegeta felt the loss of her heat and then mourned the fact that all of this was finally over. 

“Well, that was a hell of a first gift Bulma, thank you.”

Bulma giggled and turned to open the door to her apartment building, “Who said that was the gift?” She slinked inside, her hips swaying back and forth, “You coming?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can check me out on Twitter [@bitchytimemach1](https://twitter.com/Bitchytimemach1)  
> or you can go to my [Tumblr](https://ibitchytimemachine.tumblr.com) and read through my reviews and recommendations!


End file.
